


Home

by dustbunnyprophet



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Day 2, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, JJSeungWeek2017, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 06:12:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11914866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustbunnyprophet/pseuds/dustbunnyprophet
Summary: Jean had always been nothing but optimism and maple leaves. And Seung-gil wanted more than anything for him to get back to his old self, to King JJ that didn't wake every other night drenched in sweat with a scream dying in his throat. Because for all that Seung-gil loved every facet of him, seeing Jean broken was the wrongest thing.A story about love and finding the way back.JJSeung Week 2017, Day 2 - Pets





	Home

 

I.

The early spring air was chilly. It had been raining during the afternoon, and every now and then Jean sidestepped a puddle on the pavement. He lifted the mask to his nose, shutting down the mixture of smog and petrichor that permeated the city. It helped in concealing his face too. Jean’s height attracted enough attention as it was, and the last thing he needed was for someone to recognise him. His heart thrummed loudly in his ears at the thought, and he made sure the hood of his jacket was covering his face. Keeping his head low, Jean weaved into the streets of Tokyo. His muscles were protesting and he could feel the sheen of sweat between his shirt on his skin growing colder, but he just strode on, trying to put as much distance between arena and himself before everyone noticed his absence. 

The knot around his lungs tightened, and his breaths were suddenly not enough. He dug his fingers in his palm, forcing the tremors down. He didn’t want to think about it. Any of it. 

And yet he did. 

Jean should have known it had only been a matter of time. That the bubble of happiness he had been encapsulated for the past two years had never been meant to last. But even as his fears had resurfaced, and Jean had once again started dreaming of the abyss, of falling into the darkness with nothing but the mocking laughter of his rivals to follow him on the way down, the way his body had refused to cooperate with him during the free skate had still startled him. 

He should have known that waking up drenched in sweat from his nightmares that morning, lips chapped from the soundless screams that had never left his throat, was a harbinger of the past repeating himself. He should have known Barcelona was bound to happen again.

But he had stepped onto the ice, anxiety a living thing inside him, and he had been surprised. The worst free skate of his career. At the World Championship, with everyone watching, with the whole of Canada cheering. And Jean had fallen apart, placing fifth by the skin of his teeth. 

For the first time in his life he had avoided the reporters, the fans, even his boyfriend. Keeping his head down, Jean had vanished inside the locker rooms and walked out of the arena before anyone had even noticed his absence. 

He had no idea where he was going. But he knew that he couldn’t face anyone in that moment. He was running away, drowning in the maze of streets, and letting himself get lost in the sounds of a language he did not speak, a writing he could not understand. Because today shouldn’t have happened. And yet it had always been bound to. 

Because Jean was a mess and he could not face the disappointment in his parents’ eyes. 

Or Seung-gil’s.

  
  


II.

The rain had started pouring again, turning the night sky a bright orange, broken here and there by the random flashes of lightning. In spite of the large umbrella he was holding above his head, Seung-gil was almost drenched to the bone. The tiredness of having skated just hours prior was starting to settle over his limbs in the wake of the adrenaline rush which had powered him all the way through the busy streets of Tokyo. To the quiet alley he was currently in, looking at his boyfriend and wondering if he should punch him or kiss him. Or both, he thought wryly. 

The stupid Canadian he had been dating for the past two years was standing in front of a closed shop entrance, his clothes hanging wetly from his frame, and several strands of black hair plastered on his forehead. He wasn’t looking at Seung-gil, instead keeping his eyes fixed on the pavement, and Seung-gil felt the last tendrils of irritation melt into a sigh of exasperation.

“You’ll catch your death.” Seung-gil told him, pulling him under his umbrella, and urging him to move.

“I’m sorry.” Jean murmured limply, cold, wet clothes sticking against Seung-gil’s as they huddled under the umbrella. Seung-gil just shook his head.

“Just move.” he muttered. He had been so worried when he had left the kiss and cry to find that his boyfriend had disappeared, and the Leroys had no idea where to. 

In the cluster of apprehension and worry, Seung-gil had thankfully been cool-headed enough to think of tracking Jean’s iphone. 

He sneaked a look to his left, but Jean was still staring at his feet. Seung-gil opened his mouth to speak, but what could he say? It might have very well been his fault things had taken this turn. After all Seung-gil had not been there for Jean when he had needed him, after the debacle on the ice. He had been getting ready to skate his own program, and in spite of the worry he had felt, Seung-gil could have never imagined Jean would end up doing something so utterly stupid like getting lost in Tokyo.

It was a testament of how  _ not okay  _ Jean was.

They moved to the main street and hailed a cab. 

A long and uncomfortably wet ride later, he ushered Jean into their shared hotel room. And now that they were alone, Seung-gil found himself at loss. He busied himself with peeling off his wet clothes, but all the while he kept sneaking glances at Jean who was sitting on the edge of the bed, still dripping wet, with his head bowed limply and an empty look in his blue eyes that made Seung-gil’s stomach clench. 

He had no idea what to do. Expressing his emotions had never been his forte, and offering comfort was just alien to him. But Jean needed him.

They had the gala and the banquet tomorrow, and then they would be leaving Japan. Jean would fly to Montreal and Seung-gil to Seoul. He glanced at his boyfriend once again, and something clenched painfully in his stomach. 

He couldn’t leave him looking like  _ that.  _

  
  


III.

A clear morning sky greeted them as they stepped off the plane. There was a light breeze blowing across the tarmac, and the spring sun shone on the horizon. Jean watched Seung-gil stifle a yawn as he stepped onto the bus after him, pulling his cabin luggage up. The news that Seung-gil would return to Montreal with him, claiming that he was due a vacation anyway now that the season was over, had lifted somewhat Jean’s sombre mood. It had been awhile since they had last spent some quality time together without the aid of skype. It almost made him forget the heaviness that had settled in his gut after the free skate. 

Almost. 

The ugly tangle of fear and guilt, the disappointment he had proved to be to everyone, it all still weighted heavily in the pit of his stomach. Years ago he had thought the way he had felt during the short program in Barcelona had been his lowest point, but hindsight was twenty twenty, and he knew now that it could get much worse.

Seung-gil’s cold hand wrapped around his, startling him from his train of consciousness. Instinctively, his fingers tangled with his boyfriend’s. He gave him a small smile, trying to forget all the dark thoughts, and be just happy to have Seung-gil in Montreal with him. Even though he knew this impromptu trip clashed with Seung-gil’s fastidiously organised plans. He had no doubt his boyfriend had postponed more than one thing to be there. And it made guilt clench at his stomach. 

The bus coming to a stop distracted him, and in the flurry of activity Jean found a small bubble of respite. 

Seung-gil’s hand kept a steady hold on his through it all.

  
  


IV.

The soft morning light was dancing on the kitchen counter as the breeze moved the sheer curtain which hung in front of the large window. Seung-gil munched on the overly sweet pancakes Jean had made for their breakfast. After nearly a month of staying in Jean’s apartment Seung-gil had gotten used to Canada once again, but not to the food. It had been too many years since he had lived in Montreal.  

Lifting another forkful of pancake dripping with maple syrup, he reminded himself he was technically on vacation. Even though it didn’t really feel like that. Not with the sheer domesticity of sharing a home with his boyfriend. And there was a part of him that enjoyed it, having Jean cook for him, arguing about the lack of vegetables in Seung-gil’s diet, waking up next to Jean every morning, to the sight of blue blue eyes, and a bedhead that was nothing short of incredible.

He smiled at his boyfriend who was sitting across from him, and Jean’s lips pulled into a grin. And it made something unwound inside Seung-gil’s chest. In the past weeks he had not seen enough of that smile. Not with how often Jean woke up in the middle of the night, skin cold and sticky with sweat, and limbs trembling lightly. 

Because Jean was not alright. There were days when Seung-gil would find him staring from the window for hours to no end, a blanket on his shoulders in spite of it already being May. On other days he would wake up to an empty apartment, only to find Jean skating on his own, sweaty hair sticking to his forehead, and muscles trembling with exhaustion. Jean’s parents had urged him to start seeing his therapist again, and it  _ had  _ improved things somewhat. But Seung-gil knew Jean was nowhere near fine. 

He finished his pancakes and put his plate in the sink, rinsing it before placing it in the dishwasher. Jean passed him his, and he repeated the same routine. Jean did not move from where he was standing behind him, and when a pair of arms wound around his waist he just leaned into them, feeling the warmth of Jean’s chest against his back. 

“I’m happy you’re here.” Jean murmured in Seung-gil’s hair.

And Seung-gil hoped it would be enough. He wanted more than anything for Jean to go back to his cocky and mildly annoying self. To King JJ who was nothing but optimism and maple leaves. Because for all that Seung-gil loved every facet of him, seeing Jean broken was the wrongest thing.

  
  


V.

It was dark, the thick curtain pulled over the window shielding the bedroom from the streetlights. Jean lay in bed, staring at the inky black ceiling, and listening to the soft sound of Seung-gil’s breathing next to him. His soft hair tickled Jean’s bare collarbone, but he didn’t move it, afraid to wake him up. Moments like this were very precious. And so rare, Jean wanted to savour every second of it. 

He knew Seung-gil would have to leave eventually. He had been in Canada for nearly six weeks now, and Jean knew their days in Montreal were counted. And he dreaded it. He had gotten used to having him there, to living with him. The thought of the emptiness in his bed where Seung-gil now slept was enough to send shivers rippling down his bones and that deep chill to settle inside him. 

The meds had made it better, but they had left him sluggish and sleepy. And he hadn’t been able to skate like that. Which was why he had stopped taking them after three weeks. Seung-gil had not been happy to find that out, but he had not argued when Jean had explained how hard it was to concentrate on his skating when his mind felt suspended in cotton. And not just hard, it was dangerous. He had nearly crashed on the ice doing a quad Lutz on the first week he had taken his meds. And it had been a very harsh reminder of why he had not been taking them before, in spite of his anxiety having been an issue for years.

He squeezed his eyes shut, breathing through his nose. He was stuck. And for all that he had been through something similar years before after his episode at the GPF in Barcelona, it had been much milder than this. 

Years ago it had been the combined pressure of competing against monsters like Plisetsky, and the engagement with Izzy. But Plisetsky and him had been steadily at the same level for years now, and Isabella was a matter of the past. He had Seung-gil now, and even though Izzy had been very important to him, the way he felt for his boyfriend couldn’t compare. The past two years had taught Jean he had not had a clue about what love was before. Because for all the difficulties that came with living  _ too far  _ from each other, they made it work. The time spent together counted more than anything.

Something twitched painfully in his chest, and Jean wondered for a moment if maybe it was this that scared him, that fuelled his anxiety. The knowledge that he was happy, and that the other shoe would drop sooner or later. 

He opened his eyes wide, feeling his heart pick up speed.

He was scared of losing this. All of it. Because he was happy, and something just  _ had  _ to go wrong, right? It had with Isabella, even though he had destroyed it on his own by proposing and putting too much pressure on a relationship that had never been meant to last. It had with his and Otabek’s friendship back in Juniors, which had unravelled after Beka had left Montreal, leaving them as awkward acquaintances. It had with all his attempts to befriend Plisetsky, failing in ways that would have been amusing if it hadn’t been himself who ended up insulted time and time again. And while Jean  _ did  _ have friends he had hung with ever since childhood, whenever the ice was involved his relationships seemed to be doomed.

He knew there was no reason to think Seung-gil and him were not meant to last. If anything all evidence pointed to the opposite, but Jean’s heart refused to slow down, sending ripples of fear through his limbs that only grew stronger when he remembered Seung-gil would have to leave sooner or later. Irrational as it was, fear was alive and kicking inside of him, 

His fingers gripped the sheet, balling his fist while he struggled to calm himself down. It was important not to linger on the thoughts that sprung to his mind when he was like this, his therapist had told him more than once. Fear twisted reality.

And when he was okay it seemed easy enough to just let his thoughts stream untouched.

But when he faced the brunt of his anxiety, the choking of his lungs, and the way his heart threatened to burst through his chest, it was anything but easy.

  
  


VI.

A couple of days after Jean had woken him with the umptenth nightmare, Seung-gil had decided to heed the idea Jean’s sister had mentioned during a visit to the Leroy household. As unorthodox as it seemed he was about to welcome any suggestion at that point. Anything as long as it got Jean to feel better. Therapy wasn’t cutting it, and the meds were a no-go either. And while Seung-gil understood Jean’s reasons for quitting them, it did not make it easier to accept that. Not when Jean’s therapist told him very candidly that there was only so much they could do without the aid of pills. 

Which was how he found himself on a Saturday morning at an animal shelter looking at what was a veritable ball of fur, save for the lolling tongue and wet snout pushing against his hand, asking for more cuddles. Seung-gil felt his lips curl in a smile. The puppy was a small thingy, with a black snout and soft brown fur with white patches scattered on her belly and legs. And a pair of brown eyes that were far too knowing for a three months old puppy. She was currently intent at licking his fingers, and he found himself curling his lips in a smile. The puppy looked at him with an intelligence that reminded him of Gyeong. 

Seung-gil sighed wistfully. His dog had passed away last year. She had been irreplacable for him, and for all the silence and emptiness of his Seoul apartment, Seung-gil had not  been able to get another dog. But the small furball in his arms still made a surge of warmth appear in his chest, and his heart swelled the same way it had done when he had first held Gyeong.

And the more he held the puppy the more sense this whole idea of getting Jean a dog had. Gyeong’s presence had made it possible for Seung-gil to soldier through some of the most difficult junctures of his career. His dog had been the anchor he had needed. The silent, yet supporting figure that would truly always be there for him. And Jean needed just that. 

Jean’s sister cleared her throat, and he lifted his eyes to meet hers. 

“I take it she ‘s coming home with us?” Jean’s sister asked with a grin that was eerily reminiscent of Jean’s. Seung-gil just nodded, petting the puppy. 

Judging by the way her tail wagged the puppy agreed too.

  
  


VII.

The front door clicked closed, and Jean lifted his head from the magazine he was reading, wincing at the ache in his muscles. After spending ten days straight at the rink, overworking himself, Jean had been forbidden by his father to get anywhere near the ice for a couple of days. He had wanted to argue, but he knew his parents only wanted what was best for him, and the ache in his muscles had grown hard to bear. So he had begrudgingly complied. But that left him with way too much time on his hands. Especially since Seung-gil had ditched him that morning claiming he had errands to run.

Jean put his feet on the living room carpet and gingerly got up from the sofa to greet his boyfriend. He walked into the hallways. Only to stop dead in his tracks.

“A dog?” he deadpanned, blinking at the small ball of fur that chose that exact moment to jump from Seung-gil’s arms and make a beeline for Jean’s socked feet. 

It was the cutest thing ever, and Jean crouched down to run a hand through its fur. 

“It’s so soft.” he whispered, mostly to himself, but he did not miss Seung-gil’s smile. “What’s its name?” he asked.

“She doesn’t have a name yet.” he replied, and then quickly added “You mentioned wanting to get a dog eventually.”

“She’s mine?” Jean asked, feeling his eyes widen. It was true he had always wanted a dog, but he had not imagined one being sprung on him like this. And yet he didn’t mind, not when the puppy pawed her way up his calf, urging him to pet her more, and making him grin.

“So, girl, how are we going to call you?” he exclaimed playfully, looking at the furball.

He did not miss Seung-gil’s shoulders sagging in relief.

  
  


VIII.

The sofa in the living room was a comfortable place. Not as nice as Jean’s bed, but Seung-gil hated lying there alone, so he had migrated to the living room when his boyfriend had left the apartment to go see his therapist. Seung-gil sighed against the throw pillow under his head, wondering if he should have spoken to him before he had left. But springing the news on Jean at six in the morning was all degrees of untactful. Especially taken how frail Jean’s balance was still.

Seung-gil shuffled, leaning deeper into the throw pillow. He would talk to him when he returned home. 

The faint sunlight filtering through the curtains felt comfortably warm and Seung-gil found his consciousness tethering between slumber and wakefulness. The quiet of the apartment lulled him deeper towards the former. Just when Seung-gil had resigned himself to a nap something wet came in contact with his hand. He snapped his eyes open. 

And met a pair of large brown ones, surrounded by soft puppy fur. 

“Maple.” he groaned, petting her behind her ears, trying to blink himself to proper wakefulness. 

The puppy wagged her tail excitedly, lolling her tongue while Seung-gil’s fingers stroked the silky fur with well practiced ease. Jean had named her Maple, because the brown of her fur reminded him of maple syrup. And Seung-gil had just sighed, shaking his head. 

She was Jean’s dog after all. He shouldn’t be surprised at the name..

Maple lifted her front paws on the sofa, trying to lick his face, and he chuckled. He wouldn’t have minded having her lie down on the sofa next to him, but judging by the happy glint in her eyes she had more energetic activities in mind. 

Sighing, Seung-gil lifted himself to a sitting position, and she jumped into his lap, wagging her tail and moving far too much. Her sharp nails dug through his sweatpants, and he lifted her from his lap, putting her back on the floor before he lifted himself to his feet. 

“Wanna take a walk, Maple?” he asked her, and at her ears perked before she gave him a happy bark. Maple had been with them for a little over a fortnight, but she was a fast learner, especially when it came to her favourite activity. Namely sticking her snout in every nook and cranny, sniffling every possible trace of dogs during her walks around the neighbourhood.  

Fifteen minutes later her snout was attached to a hydrant, and Seung-gil stood next to her, patiently waiting for her sniffling session to be done. It was quite funny to see her, so small and still gangly, but utterly serious in her smelling endeavour. Gyeong had not been like that. His late dog had always kept her head up, strolling down the street with a dignity Seung-gil had almost envied her. Only on the rare occasions when he had found time to take her to the countryside to run through nature had she shown her more playful side. 

Maple was apparently an entirely different type of dog. 

She was still a puppy, but Seung-gil could tell she was going to be more or less a Jean in canine form. A bundle of energy and enthusiasm. 

Seung-gil smiled. He was glad he had chosen to heed Jean’s sister’s idea. And not only because Maple was precious. But also because in the past two weeks Jean had seemed more like his old self. It was just in glimpses and moments, but it was more improvement than in the month and some more they had spent in Montreal before Maple had been adopted.

A tug on the leash snapped him back to the present, and he resumed his stroll down the pavement, following Maple’s zigzagging pattern. Only to stop at the corner of a building, where a telltale wet patch captured her interest. 

While he waited for Maple to finish her perusal Seung-gil wondered if Jean’s session was over. And if he should tell him about Min So’s phone call right away. 

His coach had called him late last night to very candidly inform him that if was not going to return to Seoul within the following week he might as well start looking for a new coach. And for all that it had irked him, he had politely agreed. His coach  _ did  _ have a point. They were nearly into June, and he needed to decide on the music for his new routines, send the applications to the ISU, and Min So was not going to do that without him there. And while he hated to leave Jean when he was starting to finally get a bit better, he had booked a flight for the next Friday. 

“Your owner is not gonna be happy.” he told Maple, who had just finished sniffling the wall. “You better take care of him”.

Maple just looked at him for a second before obliviously resuming her sniffling. And Seung-gil shook his head lightly. It was so easy to slide back into his old habit of talking to Gyeong. His late dog had been the only one he had been able to confide to for a very long time, and Jean’s steady presence was still too overwhelming sometimes to be able to tell him the more subtle nuances of his thought process. 

A tug on the leash made him realise he had not moved yet. And Maple was impatient.

Seung-gil shook his head. Of course, there were a lot of things left to smell.

“Lead the way.” he murmured with a tinge of mirth.

  
  


IX.

His home was quiet when Jean returned from the session with therapist. The leash was missing, and Jean reasoned Seung-gil must have taken Maple for a walk. He toed his shoes off, putting them on the rack where the dog could not attack them. Apparently there was something divinely appealing in their shoes to Maple, and after having a relatively new pair of sneakers turn to shreds by her small but sharp teeth, Jean had learned not to leave his shoes lying on the floor. 

Jean moved to the kitchen to fetch some water from the fridge. He picked Maple’s bowl while he was at it, deciding to change her water. After all Seung-gil and her could be back soon. They never took lengthy walks.

As he poured the cold water in the bowl, Jean mused on how strange it was having a dog. His aunt had one, and Jean was somewhat used to the smell permeating the apartment, not to mention the nearly constant trail of fur that littered the floor no matter how often they vacuumed it. But having his own dog was something else entirely. Because Jean was not just a familiar stranger to her, he was one of the two people responsible for her. And her eyes followed every movement Jean and Seung-gil made, learning their tells.

It was a responsibility. The good kind, and Jean grinned. He was so happy Seung-gil had sprung Maple upon him. It almost made his boyfriend’s presence seem permanent now that they had a dog. And if he set aside the rational knowledge that Seung-gil was going to eventually return to South Korea, he could lose himself in the illusion of domesticity they had developed. 

It was a good illusion. One that made him feel a happiness much different from the ones he was accustomed to feeling. Waking up next to Seung-gil, having breakfast together, taking care of Maple, skating together every now and then, grocery shopping, dividing household chores. It was perfect.

And it made it easier to smother the voice that kept whispering about the other shoe, about the inevitability of things going awry.

He put the bowl down on the floor, spilling a bit of water in the process. He looked at the small puddle on the tiles, and went to the supply closet to fetch a mop. It was a good distraction if nothing. 

Jean had just put the mop back in the closet when the front door clicked open. A moment later a small furball collided against his calves, before pawing her way up his legs. Jean grinned as he scratched her fur. 

“Hello there, princess!” he cooed. Her tongue was lolling, and her chest was heaving in quick breaths. He lifted his head to greet Seung-gil who was standing next to the kitchen island, watching them with a fond expression that was preciously rare on his face.

Jean was about to grab his hands and tug him closer for a kiss when something changed on his expression, and Jean found himself frowning.

“Seung-gil?” he questioned, frown deepening as his boyfriend’s expression fell.

“Min So called yesterday night.” he told him, and Jean felt something cold slither into the pit of his stomach “I have a flight this Friday.” 

“You’re going home” it was not a question,

“I have to.” Seung-gil replied. 

And Jean just nodded. 

“I’m gonna miss you.” he whispered, then he added “Maple too.”

Seung-gil grimaced before crossing the two feet that divided them, and enveloping him a bone crushing hug.

“I really don’t want to leave.” Seung-gil admitted “But I have to.”

“I know” Jean murmured back, squeezing Seung-gil in turn. And Jean was pretty sure they would have stayed like that for the foreseeable future. But then Maple gave a loud bark, and they both looked down at the puppy who was pushing her muzzle against their legs, wanting to be included.

Jean felt Seung-gil’s chuckle against his chest, before his boyfriend knelt to give Maple a scratch behind her ears.

“You are as bad as your owner.” he told her, and Jean couldn’t help the laugh escaping his lips. 

Seung-gil was leaving, but he wasn’t being given the chance to be sad about it.  

And maybe it was for the best.

  
  


X.

The apartment smelled stale when Seung-gil locked the door behind him. A thick layer of dust had collected on his furniture, and he sighed at the sight. It looked like he was going to spend the whole weekend cleaning. Not exactly the way he had pictured coming back home. But then again in the past two months he had not really thought much about Seoul. Living in Montreal had become natural. 

With the windows tightly shut, there was an eerie silence in his apartment that made him wish for Gyeong’s presence. And the thought that he was truly all alone there was suddenly as choking as it had been when his dog had passed away. 

Seung-gil swallowed the bile that had risen to his tongue, and dropped the luggage in his bedroom. Then he opened all the windows, letting the sounds of the city drown the silence. And when he plugged the vacuum cleaner in and turned it on, the noise seeped deep into his thoughts, pushing away all the regrets, and the yearning he had for Jean. And Maple. For the almost picture perfect life he had played at having in Montreal.

This was his home. As empty as it was.

  
  


XI

Summer had started in earnest, and Maple had gotten through a growth spurt, becoming double and then triple the size she had been when they had adopted her.  _ They, _ because in spite of the long-distance relationship they had, Maple was Jean’s and Seung-gil’s dog. Jean refused to think of Seung-gil stay in Montreal as a one off thing. He wanted them to live together one day, and if it hadn’t been for the disastrous way his first engagement had ended he would have already asked his boyfriend to move in with him. Especially now that he knew how it felt to share a home with him. 

Jean adjusted his sunglasses on his nose, trying to draw himself out of that train of thought. His apartment was silent enough when he spent time there. Even with Maple’s energetic pawing, and occasional bark, there was a gaping whole where Seung-gil had been in the past two months. 

Sighing, he resumed his stroll down the pavement, Maple in tow. He glanced to his right where the furry menace was sniffing everything with an earnest dedication that reminded Jean of himself when he was not moping around. Not that he had done that a lot lately. Caring for Maple, on top of learning a new set of choreographies, along with all the other work that came with the development of new routines, had kept him too busy to succumb to those dark thoughts. 

He still had nightmares, yes. But Maple was eerily attuned to his moods, and every time he woke up from one he would find her licking his hand or face. And Jean would bury his fingers in her fur, stroking her while he shook off the tendrils of slumber and the lingering chill that came with nightmares.

A tug on his leash made him stop near a streetlamp where Maple was sniffing, deep in concentration. And Jean grinned at her. He was truly glad to have her. Almost as if sensing his train of thoughts Maple lifted her head, barking happily.

And Jean laughed.

She was a blessing indeed.

 

XII.

The queue at Customs was an endless thing, but Seung-gil had spent half his life travelling, and it only made him heave a tired sigh, as he resigned himself to the long wait. At least the air conditioning made it pleasant enough. While he waited for his turn he switched his phone out of airplane mode, looking at the seven missed calls he had from his coach. A small coil of guilt made its way to the pit of his stomach. Min So was pissed off, Seung-gil was sure. But at the same time there had been no way for Seung-gil to even consider  _ not  _ being in Montreal for his boyfriend’s birthday. Especially not this year. 

Admittedly he could have informed her beforehand, but considering the way she had acted when he had used his  _ free time _ in Montreal, Seung-gil chose the easier way. 

The queue moved a bit, and Seung-gil was several feet closer to the Customs officer. And yet far enough to have plenty of time to ponder the issue of his coach. Because Seung-gil had no trouble admitting it  _ was  _ an issue. Min So was a competent coach, and she had done her job good enough for Seung-gil in the past years. But they had never seen eye to eye.

And while before he had been inclined to give in to her will, things were different now. Jean’s parents had offered a while ago to coach him, and it had only been a matter of respect for Min So’s work that had made him stick with her for the last season.

Maybe it was time to consider other options. 

The woman in front of him made it past the gates, and Seung-gil was finally showing his passport to the officer. The questions were always the same, and Seung-gil answered them on autopilot. It was just part of the motions. Like making a beeline for the luggage retrieval area once he made it past Customs, grabbing his luggage, and wheeling it out past the Arrivals gate.

Jean was not in there, but as he made his way towards the glass sliding door he saw him standing outside, a  _ large  _ dog that was no doubt Maple, wagging her tail excitedly next to him. He had seen the hundreds of photos Jean had posted on instagram, but they did not convey just how much  _ bigger  _ she had gotten since he had last seen her.

The sliding doors hissed open when he reached them.  All of a sudden Maple pulled on the leash in an attempt to reach Seung-gil, and Jean yelped in startlement before he saw him. His eyes widened slightly and he flashed Seung-gil one of his trademark grins.

“Seung-gil!” he exclaimed, striding towards him, and enveloping him in a bear hug “Welcome back!”

“Welcome  _ home  _ you mean.” Seung-gil corrected him, and Jean did a double take, eyes growing wide as saucers.

“You’re staying?” he breathed, looking like all the Christmases and Birthdays had come at the same time.

“I’m not sure.” Seung-gil replied honestly, dropping the confident act “There’s a lot to deal with if I do…”

“Move in with me.” Jean exclaimed, then realising how direct he had been he scratched the back of his head adding “I mean, if you decide to move in here, it would be great if you moved in with me. Maple would be happy!”

“Just Maple?” he deadpanned, feeling his lips quiver as he suppressed a laugh.

“I would be happy too.” Jean said quietly, and Seung-gil pressed closer.

“I can’t make any promises yet.” he admitted.

“Fair enough.” Jean said, opening his mouth to say more, but Maple interrupted him with a bark that sounded more grown up than the squeaky ones she had used to do “Thia is our cue to go home, yeah?” Jean said, huffing a laugh.

Seung-gil smiled.

“Yes, let’s go home.” 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be pure fluff. Leave it tome to turn a prompt like "Pets" into an angstfest! ｡ﾟ(TヮT)ﾟ｡


End file.
